The Moderate (An Ode to the Rinos)

In the course of world events
it is wise to sit upon the fence
and divorce yourself from those right-wing gents
a moderate man I`ll be!

I`ve a mighty will for what`s weak and mild
and the record`s nil which I have compiled
for it makes me ill when I am reviled
a moderate man is me!

I command my views which I can`t define
though I`m oft confused still I stand resigned
and I rarely choose of my own design
a moderate man you see!

I will back each horse to maintain suspense
and revise my course based on inducements
while my thoughts defy any common sense
a moderate man, indeed!

The Witches

In dead of night the witches creep
like spiders in a bed.
In dread delight their riches reap
from young girls they`ve misled.

With lies their Devils Plot unfurls;
cajoling with forked tongue
the Witches try to trick young girls
into murdering their young.

They claw inside scared mothers womb
the unborn child their feast.
Denied the covers of the tomb
forelorn, defiled, deceased!

Stoke the furnace hot with coals!
The unborn won`t be missed!
Pour out the bowls of children`s souls
Hells` scornful Eucharist!

Then take the head; the blood runs red!
While wet with death, the Coven
they bake their bread of children dead
in Margaret Sanger`s oven!

And they devise to hide the cries
of the myriad tiny souls
whose blood decries the Witches lies
while their bodies rot in holes!

Young mothers used and then discarded
are tossed aside, confused
while at great cost and broken-hearted
they stand alone, accused.

To snuff out life before a breath
In a land where evil`s good
is Satan`s manna; the Bread of Death.
They`re called ``Planned Parenthood``.

And in the night they find delight
in Sin which brings forth Life,
then out of sight those wolves may bite
and murder with a knife.

In cursing God do all abet;
no supplication do they pray,
while with a nod and small regret
the Nation turns away.

A Man of Peace

I am a Man of Peace
Wars I would ban, all fighting would cease
Brotherhood and love from me measures untold
I do what I can for this treasures` increase!

I stand on what`s true (though the truth I must mold)
Virtuous through, and in truth oh-so-bold
In all that I do a true virtuous King!
A world that is new in my hands I must hold.

To oppose me is sin –I detest such a thing
Your loss is my win , joyous song will I sing!
Should america stumble or perhaps even fall
From my throat hear the rumble of triumph it bring!

In My quest I may stagger but always stand tall
In My zeast I may swagger and curse at you all
I`ll rant at your soldier and spit on his grave
In my breast I grow bolder; I stand strong like a wall.

I never grow older-that`s a pit for a slave
By bit the Bell`s tolling your soul I would save.
My bitter seed sewing, there`s blood on my hands
The terrorists rolling; their courage I gave.

My hatred is growing to flood cross our land
Delight at the flowing of blood in the sand.
May death in Iraq rain down without cease
The frightful wind blowing from Satan`s dark hand
To americas pain may it add with increase!

As I have told you
I am a Man of Peace!

A Harry Reiding

Scary Harry quite contrary
How does your party grow?
With sleaze that sells, and rotten smells
And filibusters of our foe.

The Liberal

Close your eyes, shut your ears
Hide your fears behind your lies.
You despise what shows behind the mirrors.
So go the years until you die.

Hide your fears behind your lies
When doubts arise through your veneer.
So go the years until you die.
Truth defies the things you hear.

When doubts arise through your veneer
You grow severe in your replies.
Truth defies the things you hear.
Still you draw near to your alibis.

You grow severe in your replies;
You despise what shows behind the mirrors.
Still you draw near to your alibis
Close your eyes, shut your ears.

The Dance of the Marionette

See the wooden marionette dancing on a string.
Upon your set it does a show, prancing like a king!
A hollow mouth on wooden head carved out of Eden`s tree
Into your home, into your bed, in stereo color teevee!

The dummy Head lively and gay, or sorrowful and grave
The words it said or didn`t say, those stories that it gave
To tell you how to think and feel, and which way you should go
Before the puppet all should kneel and worship at the show!

The puppet master tugs the threads-the words the puppet brings.
Its mouth moves faster; words of dread, or marvelous shocking things.
It does not matter what is on, CNN or NBC
The buzz and chatter`s never gone, the spin rolls constantly.

The marionette would rule the Earth if left to its` device
But it`s a fool of little worth with empty, vain advice.
A mouth without a living brain, an eye that cannot see
A bout of madness, reign of pain, a lie, a left wing spree!

The puppet thinks it pulls the strings and whispers in the ears
The Master spreads out full his wings, and laughs at what he hears!
The puppet is the slave, you see, and works its` lords` desire
And in the end its grave will be as kindling for his fire!

The Kerry Patch

They love their Man with orange tan

that botox`d boy from Liberal Land.

The Kerry Kool-aid sipping Klan

they love their man John Kerry.


Their Jewish/Irish/Frankish friend

he`ll never break but he sure can bend

and votes he makes he will amend

the politician Kerry.


John Kerry, John Kerry

for money he did marry.

He`s out of wack about Iraq

And answers not our query!


He straddles nearly every horse

(when the money`s gone he`ll just divorce)

he can`t commit to any course

that rock of strength John Kerry







He stabs our allies in the back

with snidely jabs and nasty cracks

and plays it loose with all his facts

that genius John F. Kerry.


John Kerry, John Kerry

his brain is light and airy.

He feigns a dance to hide his stance

and, boy, the guy is dreary!


The Swiftboat Vets sure hate the deal

with ``hero`` Kerry at the wheel!

Three Purple Hearts (those papercuts healed)

the great warhero Kerry!


He`ll defend us all with rubber bands,

depend on troops from other lands,

and give in to all U.N. demands

our Fearless Leader Kerry!


John Kerry, John Kerry

he trashed his friends unfairly.

He preys on fears for his career

and hopes we forget early!


This guy`s more boring than Bob Dole

a left-wing granite-jawed beanpole

with hot air snoring out his hole

the dynamic John F. Kerry!



Who could vote for such a dude

so full of snit, and oh-so-rude

whose meager wit the truth eludes.

We can`t afford John Kerry!


John Kerry, John Kerry

We can`t afford John Kerry!

A foolish man without a plan,

don`t vote for John F. Kerry!

Koffi Klutch

The son of Koffi Anan
ran a con to sell Saddam some cannon;
for the gift of Iraqi black crude
in a grift known as Oil for Food.

Question

Question

We`re now down in Haiti `cause they hate Aristide
For his rule of corruption and greed.
So where are the antics and games
From the People of ``Not in Our Names``?

The Flight of the Dragon

One bright September morning as I walked along the River
In the heavens, without warning, appeared a sight that made me shiver
There I saw the Piasa, that hateful bird, as it dove out of the sky:
That murderous red dragon shrieking with an aweful cry,
A vengeful feast of smoke and blood with snapping beak on high.

The dead their bones a mountain made inside the Great Twin Candles
Great moans, red blood, a fountain sprayed the Sin of Satan`s vandals
See how the dead flood to the edge to leap off of the mountain
They cross themselves and pray this day to God their souls to keep
Hellfire above, hope at a loss, oh how the many weep!
The way below a mire of bodies deep!

Then Michael and his Angels came forth riding on their wagon
To Hell they went to save the lame, and do battle with the Dragon
Many fell and still they came, a sea of heroes led
By God to save the dying and bring peace unto the dead.
They dug those maimed and mangled souls beneath the rubble free
Cries beneath the tangled ashes, they rescued those there be
Their crown a wreath of purple for they who dare;
Married to such sad destiny.

Then Beowulf arose that day, to hunt that hateful beast
With his army on the way He knows; He seeks him in the East
A fateful hour , the Grendal cowers, to his cave he goes-the stench of death it grows.
With no escape the serpent coils in his dark cold tomb
Death shroud draped, his blood it boils, with Saint George coming soon.

And I saw the ending in the sky; the ragged trail had run dry
The beast had dragged his tail through the stars to pull them down from heaven
Now God his soul forever bars for the murders of 911.

A KerryHue

A KERRYHUE


John F. Kerry

doesn’t mind if two gentlemen marry

and has things he would like to erase

like what springs from both sides of his face!

A Drip Fell

A Drip Fell


A drip fell from the pipe
It slipped from the well, a rip in the steel was ripe
To strip and to peel and to wipe out the shell
And to noisily drum with a really bad smell
Till my head`s nearly numb and I feel out of type
Still it sheds forth great sums, seems my plumbs had it`s stripes.

With the year it began in a slow steady rain
Like a tear softly ran from the snows icy pain
Just a drop in the pan of my fears quite inane
Without stop do I hear as it flows down the drain
Leaving a smear on my wall which shows unsightly stain
And on top of it all I am clearly appalled as it grows and it drives me insane!

Like waves on the beach of an hourglass sea
Like the caves that are leached from the mass that there be
So this way it behaves; dig a breech and pass free
While I rave and beseech and I preach my crass plea
And I slave with my bleach like a knave on my knees
For the grave do I see and my soul seeks to flee lest time reach over me.

And the moons waxed and waned like the old Dutchman`s fleet
To the tunes rained refrain while I made my slow retreat.
Marooned, tacked, and chained in the cold blowing sleet
flows down the well
And a drip fell.While the pain of lost time strewn like jacks rolled `neath my feet
The monsoon racks the folds of my brain till I`m beat
Far too soon we attain and our life seems to drain through the cracks that hold defeat.

It ended silently in the night; seems the pipe froze up and dried.
Unable to mend it despite all my might though I mightily tried
I could no longer fend off the tide of my woes for the fight in me died.
Now the ride`s at an end and my plight`s at a close as the light softly goes
And my life gently